


Waiting

by eleanor_lavish, thepsychicclam



Series: Valiant Effort [4]
Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-18
Updated: 2009-07-18
Packaged: 2017-11-28 03:34:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/669806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eleanor_lavish/pseuds/eleanor_lavish, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepsychicclam/pseuds/thepsychicclam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Introduction to Orlando Bloom, Manhattan waiter and guitarist for Valiant Effort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> written by Clammy.

Orlando walks back into the kitchen, shouts over the din of cooks and wait staff, just to shove the door open again and go back into the restaurant. He hates it, working for the yuppie scum; waiting on them, bringing them their wine, listening to them complain about the food, the lighting, the room temperature, the metal chairs they’re sitting in. He always smiles benignly, and they instantly fall under his spell. Sure, they still complain and annoy the piss out of him, but at least they do it in a nicer manner.

Orlando loathes working at The Bridge, with its Manhattan address and valet parking and small dining room and dim lighting that makes it impossible to see after the sun goes down. Five nights a week, sometimes six, he strides around the restaurant, carrying expensive food and bottles of wine that cost enough to pay his rent to snobby, rich couples and their spoiled children, many of which try to secretly get his attention in order to hit on him and get his number.

His shirts all have to be long enough to cover the three tattoos on his arms, his hair has to be neat and trimmed, and facial hair is out of the question. By night he’s Mister Conformity, in a white button down and black slacks, smiling and filling everyone’s requests.

Out of the restaurant and on the street, Orlando counts the generous tips that put food on the table and pay a fourth of the rent. All four of them split everything evenly, unless someone has a bad month, then the others step in and have their back because they all can remember a time when it’s happened to them. For Orlando, his part is groceries. Changed into a worn pair of jeans and a fitted t-shirt, his work clothes securely stuffed into his backpack, he takes the subway to their neighborhood, stopping by a twenty-four hour grocery store on the way to the apartment.

Orlando doesn’t know how it’s come to this – waiting tables and buying groceries. He’s a musician and a damn talented one at that, if he does say so himself. Back in Scotland where he lived for a brief period with Billy, Dom, and Stu before packing it up and leaving it all behind, he felt they were actually going to do something one day. They were going places, playing gigs, becoming a name.

Then Billy decided to move all the way to fucking New York City where life was too fast and his accent all wrong. He had trouble understanding the Americans when he first moved, having to ask people to repeat themselves quite a few times before he got the gist of what they were saying. It got him in trouble a few times at work, irritating the damn yuppie scum because he couldn’t understand their New York talk, but he learned fast and faked a lot.

He doesn’t regret moving to New York because Billy made the decision, and Orlando would follow Billy to the fucking moon if he asked him to go. Billy has what it takes - the right attitude, the right ideas, the right head for making it big in the music business. And he is the most amazing musician Orlando has ever heard. The first night Orlando heard him play in a small pub in Glasgow, he hadn’t noticed anything else in the room. It was just him, Billy, and the guitar. After the show, he fought his way through the crowds and bought Billy a drink, hoping just to talk to him for a few minutes. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined becoming friends and part of his band.

“Rough night, Orlando?” Gracie, the clerk at the grocery store, asked him as he loaded his items up onto the checkout counter. Orlando gave her a weary smile.

“Yes. The damn customers get worse every time I walk into that place.” Orlando ran a weary hand through his dirty hair, watching with despair as the bill rose higher and higher.

“Seventy five dollars and thirteen cents,” Gracie said, bagging up the last few items. Orlando pulled the money from his pocket, shaking his head.

“That’s fucking ridiculous, Gracie. For the little bit I bought tonight. Bloody robbers.”

“I know, love. We all have to do it though. You’re not alone.” She handed him his change and his bags. “You go home and get some rest. You look rough.”

“Will do. Good night, Gracie. See you later.”

Bags in hand, Orlando walked out of the store and up the few blocks to their apartment building. Not surprisingly, the elevator was broken again, so he slowly ascended the seven flights of stairs, dead on his feet by the time he hit their door.

The living arrangement was one of necessity more than anything. None of them could afford to live by themselves, barely scraping by as it was living together, and they figured it would provide a good bonding experience. They were like a little family, an extremely dysfunctional family Orlando noted, but a family nonetheless. Dom and Orlando had been best mates since they were teenagers, meeting by chance at some play audition back when they used to act. Orlando mentioned to Billy that his friend could play a wicked bass, and the two of them had hit it off from the start, so Dom was the band’s bass player. After moving to New York, Orlando took it upon himself to be Elijah’s older brother. The kid’s family didn’t understand him or appreciate his talent, and the so-called friends he had lived hundreds of miles away. He had no one in New York – no one but the three of them. He was still extremely naïve, though he was gaining street smarts at a rapid pace, and Orlando worried about him. Especially because he was hopelessly in love with Dom, and Dom was too thick to see the blind adoration written all over Elijah’s face and had no clue. Orlando would never let Dom know about Elijah’s affections, not even to stop him from leading Elijah on like he did. But that didn’t change the fact that it pissed Orlando off.

Pushing the door open with his foot, he spotted Dom asleep on the couch, television turned to some late night infomercial on cleaning products. Walking past the pile of clothes and food wrappers, he entered the kitchen where Billy was standing at the sink, washing up a few dishes.

“You’re home late,” Billy said, taking a few bags from his tired hands. Orlando sat the rest on the counter and started putting the contents away.

“I had to close at work, then go by the store cause we had no milk, cereal, toilet paper, or meat of any form. So I just picked up a few things we’d need for the next couple of days.” He opened the refrigerator, full of beer, jello pudding, and leftovers, and threw the milk on the shelf. He jumped when he felt Billy place a hand on his arm.

“It’s ok.” Billy rubbed his arm lightly, and he turned to look down at him. Billy looked so calm and peaceful, just like always.

In addition to hero worship, Orlando loved Billy. He wasn’t completely sure if Billy was The One, or even The One For Now. All he knew was that he turned down every offer he had for a date and came home to curl up with Billy every night. And he didn’t want to sleep in anyone else’s arms.

“It’s not ok. I’m sick of this. Just sick of it.” He pulled a beer off the shelf and slammed the door behind him. He opened it, chugging quickly. Billy pulled Orlando’s hand away from his mouth, taking the bottle from him.

“Don’t start doing that. You just had a bad day. Hell, you should trying putting on a suit and working in a small cubicle for ten hours a day. It’s just as frustrating. But we’re not gonna be like this forever. Just for now.” Orlando looked at him skeptically and took his beer back.

“I’m glad that you’re so positive about everything.”

“Someone’s got to be. I sure as hell can’t rely on you to do it,” Billy said sarcastically, a smile breaking through. Orlando felt all his worry and dejection melt away merely at the site of Billy’s smiling green eyes. “Now come on.” Billy took Orlando’s hand, leading him towards the bedroom. “You need to get some rest.”

“Elijah home?”

“Yes. He was in bed when I got home.” Billy opened the door to the tiny room quietly, leading Orlando over to their mattress on the floor. Orlando technically had no bed. Dom slept on the couch, Elijah and Billy had twin mattresses on the floor of this closet-room, and Orlando had nothing at all. For this reason, among others, he slept close with Billy on the small makeshift bed every night.

Stripping down to boxers, they both climbed into bed, Orlando finishing the last of his beer and setting the bottle down on the floor. He and Billy played a game of “situate the covers” as they attempted to get comfortable together. Billy ended up curled in Orlando’s arms, while Orlando was stretched out against the wall.

“Good night, love,” Billy said quietly as not to wake Elijah.

“Good night,” Orlando said, reaching down and capturing Billy’s inviting mouth in a sloppy kiss. The day’s woes morphed into desire as Orlando felt Billy’s tongue inside his hungry mouth. He shifted his weight a little, covering half of Billy’s body with his own. The flesh of Billy’s bare chest was so inviting, and Orlando traced it generously with his hands, getting extremely aroused. Billy pulled away from the kiss, pecking him lightly on the nose, and closed his eyes.

Orlando sighed in frustration, left like always with a kiss and a throbbing hard on, and told Billy he had to go take a piss. He padded to the bathroom, muttering curses under his breath, and jacked off. Lying back down on the mattress, Billy rolled over into his arms, kissing his chest.

“Feel better?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“I hate you,” Orlando whispered back.

“I know.” Billy lifted his face, kissing Orlando for the final time, before burying his face against Orlando’s skin and falling asleep.

Orlando waited like always for Billy to fall asleep before settling down himself and drifting into hopeless dreams.

~Fin  



End file.
